


Little Slut's Training

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: His Little Slut [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Amputation, Amputation Kink, Amputee, Amputee Kink, Anal Sex, Brainwashing, Gags, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: Harley's training begins several months after his limbs are taken from him.With no way to run and no chance of escape, there's little he can do but give in and become Brandon's perfect little slut.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: His Little Slut [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476005
Comments: 3
Kudos: 87





	Little Slut's Training

After the surgery, Harley didn’t slept well, lying in bed with Brandon’s arm draped over his belly while the Brandon laid fast asleep on his stomach. Every time Brandon so much as shifted, Harley would snap awake (if he had been asleep at all) heart pounding and breathing heavily in terror.

It had been about three months since Brandon had had Harley’s remaining leg and both of his arms amputated at the knees and elbows and Harley had been mind numbly petrified of him since then.

Brandon hadn’t touched him though, not since before the surgery. The only way he touched him was to sponge bathe him since he didn’t want Harley in the tub yet but even then, there was never a sexual aspect about it.

But three months of getting next to no sleep takes a toll on a person’s body and Harley found himself becoming more exhausted by the day. It was only when Brandon got up in the morning to get a shower that Harley ever seemed to get a decent amount of sleep.

But even then, it wasn’t long enough.

…………………….

Having not been out of bed in three months, his body adjusted and manipulated by Brandon for sponge baths and to make sure he didn’t get blood clots or sores, Harley hadn’t seen his own appearance.

As a result, he didn’t know how shit he looked until Brandon voiced it, stroking a thumb under Harley’s eyes as they lay together in bed.

“You look tired, sweetheart,” Brandon murmured. “Have you not been sleeping?”

“I can’t,” Harley reluctantly admitted, too afraid of what Brandon would do if he lied for refused to answer.

Brandon made a quiet cooing noise, leaning over to press a kiss to Harley’s temple. “Why not, baby?” he asked, brushing Harley’s curls out of his face.

Harley shivered, licking his lips. “I don’t trust you.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Brandon’s expression turn dark before he perked up again, reaching down to slip his hand under the cover, splaying it over Harley’s belly.

“Maybe I need to prove that you  _ can _ trust me,” he murmured, pressing his body close to Harley’s.

Harley shivered and with a modicum of courage, whispered, “No.” He winced when Brandon’s blunt nails dug into the tender flesh of his abdomen.

“What did you say to me?” Brandon’s tone was empty of emotion.

Harley swallowed thickly and licked his lips. “I said no, Brandon,” he whispered.

Brandon’s eyes took on a look of madness before he relaxed, pressing himself ever closer to Harley, even as the other turned his head away.

“I think we should take a walk,” he suggested, which startled Harley out of his thoughts.

“What?” he asked as Brandon got out of bed and began pulling on his clothes before pulling out a t-shirt, boxers, and shorts for Harley. “Brandon, it’s the middle of the night!”

“It’s only nine,” Brandon replied as he pulled the blankets down, forcing Harley to close his eyes. With a sigh, Brandon reached out to take Harley’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Sweetheart, you have to look eventually.”

Harley still refused to open his eyes and Brandon sighed again, pressing a gentle kiss to Harley’s forehead before pulling the t-shirt over his boyfriend’s head, gently sliding Harley’s useless stumps through the short sleeves before doing the same with his boxers and shorts.

It felt weird, Harley thought to himself as Brandon lifted him up and placed him in his wheelchair, securing the strap over his hips before wheeling thim out of the room. It felt weird to wear clothes. The last time Harley had worn clothes had been...when  _ had _ that been?

Before the surgery at least. God, had he really not worn clothes for three months?

Brandon’s hand on his head, stroking his fingers through Harley’s curls as he opened the back door and pushed Harley out into the outdoors, startled the other out of his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“Nothing,” Harley replied, shivering in the cool night air and wishing Brandon had at least deigned to give him a blanket. “Just…”

He trailed off, even though he didn’t really know why. He never finished his sentence and Brandon didn’t press him to. They continued their walk (walking on Brandon’s part, sitting strapped in a wheelchair on Harley’s) in silence until Brandon stopped them in a large, grassy clearing.

“Do you mind if I pick you up?” he asked. “I was thinking we could sit here for a bit.”

“Brandon, I just want to go home,” Harley said quietly. Branadon sighed softly and Harley tensed, waiting to feel the sting of a slap against his cheek though it never came.

Instead, Brandon shucked off his hoodie and laid it out on the ground before returning to Harley’s side and unstrapping him from the wheelchair. He very gently lifted Harley under the arms, setting him down on the hood before cursing.

“Shit, forgot something,” he muttered. “Are you going to be okay here alone while I run back to grab it?”

Harley cast a wary glance around the night darkened woods then looked back where he could make out the shining lights of the cabin. He blinked. He hadn’t even realized it had two stories. He’d only been in two rooms on the bottom level.

“I-I guess,” he said softly, closing his eyes when Brandon knelt down to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay, I’ll be right back sweetheart,” Brandon promised. “I know you’re scared, Harley, and I’m sure the urge to escape is very high but-”

“I can’t get anywhere, I know,” Harley snapped, lifting his useless arms for emphasis as he closed his eyes and repeated in a whisper, “I know.”

“I’ll be right back,” Brandon repeated before turning and jogging back to the cabin. Harley sighed softly, forcing himself to stare down at his arms and legs despite the months he’d spent not looking at them.

They’d healed well and he hadn’t even gotten an infection. Honestly, looking at him you never would have known which limb had been amputated first. It was almost like he’d always been like that.

Harley hated that and he dropped his arms with a quiet sigh, closing his eyes and trying to distract himself by just breathing in the wooded air, let himself feel the breeze that he hadn’t gotten to enjoy from being cooped up for several months.

With his head tilted back and his eyes closed, thoughts a jumbled mess, Harley never heard the footsteps behind him until a hand was pressing over his mouth.

He flailed and cried out as his mouth was forced open and a wad of cloth stuffed inside, several strips of tape placed over his mouth to prevent him from spitting it out.

He flailed and squirmed and struggled to fight as he was lifted and placed in someone’s lap, the person’s hand on his forehead, pressing his head back against their shoulder while their hand slipped under his shirt and splayed across his belly.

“Harley, shh, just relax sweetheart.”

Harley’s chest was heaving, tears dripping down his face as he struggled to twist away from Brandon. But without his arms, without his legs, he was practically defenseless.

“It’s okay baby, it’s just me.”

_ I know!  _ Harley wanted to scream. But instead he let himself slump back against Brandon’s chest, sobbing quietly, the sound muffled by the makeshift gag.

Brandon continued to stroke his hand over Harley’s belly, while the other wiped away 

Harley’s tears. Harley wasn’t sure how long it took him to get himself under control but he was beyond exhausted by the time he managed to relax.

“Shh, there you go, you’re okay,” Brandon soothed as he stood and flited Harley up, tucking the amputee against his side as though he were a little toddler. Harley sniffled and watched through tear blurred eyes as Brandon laid out a large blanket over his hoodie before sitting down with Harley in his lap again.

“I told you I had to have you all to myself,” Brandon murmured once he was comfortable. “But that’s not the truth. Not...not the full truth, anyway. I want you all to myself, Harl, but I want you to want me too. And after what I’ve done, I doubt you will.”

Harley shook his head but went absolutely still when he heard Brandon’s next soft words.

“Not without training.”

He made an inquisitive noise behind the gag, the sound turning into a shriek when Brandon’s hand slipped into Harley’s shorts and boxers to grab and stroke the amputee into hardness.

Harley writhed and thrashed, tears pricking his eyes as he struggled to escape, He flailed his stumps and screamed but the gag muffled the sound and he doubted there was anyone around to hear him, even if it  _ hadn’t _ been the middle of the night.

He sobbed when he neared orgasm and Brandon pulled his hand out and away, letting Harley breathe and heave before he spoke in a soft, gentle voice.

“From now on, until you’re properly trained, you will not cum unless  _ a _ cock is inside you.”

Harley whimpered, hardly noticing the true meaning of the words. He shivered when Brandon’s hand snaked back down to his pants before he pulled them off along with Harley’s boxers.

A moment later, Harley felt something warm and large pressing against his hole and he thrashed and struggled uselessly, screams muffled behind the gag as Brandon forced his thick cock inside of Harley’s tight hole with nothing to ease the way save for the lube around his member.

When it was finally in and Harley was seated down on him, the amputee burst into tears though Brandon was quick to soothe him, rubbing a hand over Harley’s belly while stroking away his tears.

Brandon didn’t move for awhile, letting Harley adjust to the feeling and relax a little more. When he did finally move, just a slow roll of his hips, Harley tried so so hard to choke down the moan of pleasure when the tip of Brandon’s cock pressed against his sweet spot.

“I promise, I’m going to make you feel good, sweetheart,” Brandon murmured softly, stroking his hand through Harley’s hair as he slowly began to thrust faster into Harley’s stretched, burning hole. 

Eventually, he moved his hands to grip Harley’s hips, grunting quietly as he thrust harder and harder while Harley had no other choice but to go along for the ride.

When Brandon came inside of him, Harley sobbed.

…………………………

If he was barely sleeping before, he was certainly not sleeping now. Almost every single moment of his day was filled with Brandon. Pain and pleasure and sex and orgasm turned into all he knew and the worst part was, there was nothing he could do to fight it.

He could scream and cry but Brandon  _ liked _ that until he didn’t and then Harley was gagged and couldn’t make a single fucking sound as Brandon tore him apart.

“We’re going to play a game today, Harley,” Brandon said one day. “If you can go all day without speaking or bitching, you’ll get a reward.”

Harley swallowed thickly. “W-what do you mean by-”

“Any sound you make needs to be a sound of  _ pleasure _ ,” Brandon explained. “No words. No whines or screams or any of that shit. Do all that and make it  _ all day _ and you’ll get a treat. Okay?”

“I-”

“Ah ah,” Brandon warned, waving a finger in Harley’s face. “Just nod or shake your head.”

Harley felt sick, but he very slowly nodded. Brandon grinned. “Good boy.”

Harley hated the way his cock twitched at that.

…………………………..

Three days after trying (and failing and being punished and tortured for his failure) to stay silent for a day, Brandon inserted a large dildo gag into slut’s mouth, buckling it in place and grinning as he patted the frightened, patting other male on the head as though he was a puppy.

“You didn’t do very good with staying quiet when I let you do it by yourself last time, little slut,” he explained. “So you’re going to wear this from now on and I’ll only take it out when you need to eat or get something to drink.”

…………………………..

Six months later, Brandon removed it for good.

Harley never said another word. In fact, he barely even remembered his own name. His entire body seemed to be in an odd state of perpetual arousal. Any fear he’d felt towards Master vanished into happiness and arousal at the sight of the man. 

He wiggled eagerly whenever Brandon appeared and happily allowed himself to be bounced on the man’s cock like Brandon’s own personal sex toy.

His days were filled with pleasure from beginning to end and every moment was bliss, even the painful moments. He was Master’s good little slut who took everything master gave him with a happy little moan.


End file.
